


if you're ready

by rhapsodyinpink



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (there is an actual plot), M/M, blame bruno mars for this, it's a beautiful night, it's a vegas crack fic!, keith and lance are looking for something dumb to do, so of course they get married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 09:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10303304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhapsodyinpink/pseuds/rhapsodyinpink
Summary: “Why was I wearing a wedding veil?” Lance asks, eyes narrowing in confusion.“Oh wait..wait, shit! Shit! Did I marry a hot babe last night? Talk about a wild birthday!” Lance crows, waving his arms with glee.“No,” says Keith. “You married me.”In which the paladins visit Las Vegas for Lance’s 21st birthday, Keith and Lance get married, Allura goes missing, Pidge gets arrested, and Shiro goes to the spa.





	1. who cares, baby?

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation for this other than the fact that I was listening to Marry You by Bruno Mars on the radio and this idea struck me like a bolt of lightning. And it's going to be a wild ride, friends. Enjoy!

Keith groans as a bright beam of sunlight breaks through the broken blinds of the motel room. His head feels like it weighs six tons and his throat is parched and dry, but as much as it sucks, he's not surprised. It's about par for the course for a wild night in Las Vegas, where Lance somehow convinced Princess Allura to return to Earth for one weekend so he could celebrate his 21st birthday in style. 

The princess was reluctant at first, but Lance has always been an expert at slowly wearing people down through dogged persistence, so he won that particular battle— and the Paladins of Voltron (sans Pidge, who decided to go to a Cirque du Soleil show with Coran instead) went out on the town.

Keith rubs his eyes and yawns as he stumbles into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He can't remember much about last night, but knowing Lance, there are probably plenty of videos and pictures that will help jog his memory. 

But in the meantime, he's looking forward to going back to space. He's never been much of a partier, and the sheer exhaustion he feels right now reminds him why he doesn't like to go out. 

And perhaps in another life Keith could have remained comfortably nestled in this train of thought for the rest of the day without another care in the world, but unfortunately in this one, two things prevent that from happening:

  1. a ray of sunlight catches on his left hand, illuminating a piece of jewelry on a certain finger that certainly wasn't there 24 hours ago.
  2. a loud snore coming from the bathtub reveals Lance curled up like a baby inside, shirtless, surrounded by flower petals, wearing a wedding veil, and clutching a marriage certificate with both of their names on it.



All traces of exhaustion leave Keith as he stares in horror at the piece of paper in his unconscious — _ husband’s—  _ arms. 

A million questions run through his head.  _ How? When? Why? _

He doesn't know. But he has to find out.

* * *

Keith rushes over to the tub and snatches the marriage certificate away, tossing it into the sink before proceeding to shake Lance until he wakes up. 

He groans as he comes to, cursing under his breath. 

“What the hell, dude?” he moans as he sits up, reaching his hands up to rub his throbbing temples.  “Why did you — ” 

He stops, turning pale as he feels the frilly veil lying askew on his forehead. He touches the edges of the beaded lace with trepidation before yanking it off his head and staring at it in disbelief. 

“This is — ,” he starts, trailing off. 

“A wedding veil,” finishes Keith. “Yeah.” 

“Why was I wearing a wedding veil?” Lance asks, eyes narrowing in confusion. 

“Oh wait..wait, shit! Shit! Did I marry a hot babe last night? Talk about a wild birthday!” Lance crows, waving his arms with glee. 

“No,” says Keith. “You married me.” 

Lance snorts. “You really need to work on your joke delivery, my man,” he says.

“I’m not joking,” Keith growls, fishing the marriage certificate out of the sink and pushing it in his face. 

Slightly damp from its adventure by the drain, the paper flops over onto Lance’s nose and causes him to sneeze. 

It flutters back towards the ground and settles on the ground, face up, the truth undeniably in front of them, stamped in black ink, embellished in the corners with flashy gold curlicues: Lance is now Lance McClain-Kogane, and Keith is now Keith Kogane-McClain.

Lance stares at it silently, absorbing the words on the page, before the one word that has been rolling around endlessly in Keith’s mind for the past five minutes forms on his chapped, dry lips: 

“ _ Fuck.”  _

He looks up and gawks at Keith like he’s suddenly grown three heads and sprouted wings. 

“You’re my  _ husband _ ,” he whispers. “How the fuck did this happen? Who allowed this?”

“How would I know?!” protests Keith. “I blacked out! My guess is as good as yours.”

Lance groans. “You don't remember anything about last night either?”

“No! I drank as much as you did!”

“That's impossible. You're a lightweight! One glass of Nunville knocks you over in five minutes. Meanwhile, I am the king of Long Island Nunville Tea.”

“It doesn't matter who drank how much,” says Keith, waving his arms dismissively. “We need to figure out where everyone else is and get to the bottom of this.”

“Ugh. Fine. I hate to admit it, but you're right, Mullet. I'll call Hunk and see if he can help us figure out where everyone is.”

Lance stands up and finally climbs out of the tub, rubbing a crick in his neck. As he does, Keith notices a dark purple hickey right on top of his collarbone. 

He stares at it momentarily before averting his eyes; he doesn't want to draw attention to the fact that he's seen it. 

Lance is insufferable enough as it is; the last thing Keith needs is for him to notice his “rival” staring at his body— or worse, for him to think about the possibility that Keith himself might have given him a hickey.

“Okay okay okay okay,” Lance murmurs, looking down and closing his eyes as he reorients himself to standing up again, placing a hand on the shower wall to maintain his balance. 

When he opens his eyes, he finally notices the flower petals scattered around the bottom of the tub. He stares at them with bemusement before looking back up at Keith. 

“Were these here before?”

Keith nods. “Yeah.”

“Huh,” he replies, flicking an errant petal off his chest. “I guess we really did go all out.”

Lance continues fishing around his pockets until he finally finds his phone, which is now covered in the gaudiest glittering case Keith has ever had the displeasure of seeing with his own two eyes. 

Keith has never seen this case before, which means that Lance must have gotten it last night. 

Lance shouts triumphantly. “Aha! Got it!” 

As hideous as it is, Keith files the ugly new case away as a clue to unlocking the mysteries of their wild night, in addition to whatever footage Lance has on his phone. 

But Lance’s face quickly falls as he tries to turn his phone back on, to no avail.

“Shit...it’s totally dead. Can I borrow your charger?”

“Sorry, I have an Android.” 

Lance grimaces. “Oh yeah. You're one of those.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Doesn't matter. I just realized that since we’re married now, I finally get to have a say in what kinds of big ticket retail decisions you're making. And the first thing you're going to do is switch to Apple.”

“What are you talking about? How is any of this related to solving our problem?”

“Keith, Keith, Keith. We don't have time for a lover’s quarrel right now. But you're right. In the meantime, I guess we have to use your phone to call Hunk.”

“Obviously,” says Keith. “Your phone is dead.” 

He pulls his own phone out of his pocket and hands it to Lance. “Here. Dial 4 to speed dial him.” 

Lance raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so he’s number 4 on your speed dial? Who’s 1-3?” 

Keith sighs. “Does it really matter?” 

“Yes. As your new husband, it is of extreme importance that I know where I fall on this scale.” 

“Fine. 1 is Shiro. 2 is Allura. 3 is Pidge. And you’re 5.” 

“What?! I’m number  _ five _ ?!”  Lance sputters, nearly dropping the phone. “That’s so insulting!” 

“It’s just a number, Lance! Can you please call Hunk already? We’re wasting time.” 

Lance sighs. “I can’t believe you married me and are treating me like this. It really is so very hurtful.”  

“ _ You _ married  _ me! _ ” protests Keith. 

Lance purses his lips. “Technically, we married each other. And until there’s evidence proving otherwise, I’m going to assume that this was a mutual decision.” 

“Whatever. We have to get a divorce,” Keith mutters, crossing his arms. 

“I think the term you’re looking for is annulment,” says Lance, smirking. “Unless you think we consummated our holy union last night.” 

“I don’t know!” shouts Keith. “I don’t remember anything! For all I know, we did!”

Lance cackles. “‘ _ For all I know, we did?’”  _ I always knew you secretly wanted to do me.” 

“Come on, this isn’t funny! We have to figure out what happened and fix it.”

“Excuse me, are you saying you don’t want to be married to me? I find that extremely offensive. I am a delightful human being, thank you very much. Any man or woman would be lucky to be married to me, but being the incredible person that I am, I must have decided last night that you were Mr. Right. On my own 21st birthday, of all nights! You should be  _ grateful _ , not trying to escape from our beautiful union.” 

Keith groans and leans his forehead against the bathroom mirror. Although he’s gotten used to Lance’s dramatic verbal overtures over the past four years, the resonant tone of his fellow paladin’s voice is making him realize that his hangover is even worse than he thought.

“Why are you treating this like a joke? Think about what Shiro’s going to say when he finds out.” 

He feels a cool hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Lance, looking uncharacteristically serious. 

“Hey man, I never said it was a joke.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” says Keith, frowning. 

Lance shrugs. “Look. I remember about as much as you. Which is to say, nothing. But I kind of expected it, you know? That’s kinda the point of a birthday in Vegas. It means it was successful.”

“I’m not following.” 

“I’m just saying...the reason I wanted to come back to earth for my 21st birthday was so we could do stupid shit for a weekend instead of worrying about saving the universe. You know, like The Hangover or something.” 

“You wanted to come back to earth just so you could get a hangover?!” 

“What? No—it’s not—you know what, never mind. Let’s just call Hunk.”

“I’m not the one wasting time here,” comments Keith, and Lance sticks his tongue out before finally pressing 4. 

Unsurprisingly, Hunk picks up immediately, his voice frantic with concern.  

“Hello, Keith? Oh, thank god you’re okay, I was so worried about where you might be when I saw you and Lance weren’t in the room this morning—” 

“Hey Hunk,” says Lance, interrupting. “Are you in the hotel room?”

“Lance? Is that you? Why do you have Keith’s phone? Are you together?” 

“Yeah, we’re together,” replies Lance, offering no further explanation.

“Everything in one piece? No broken laws or anything? I don’t remember much about last night and I’m kind of freaking out, man,” says Hunk.

“Breathe, buddy, we’re fine! We’re just trying to figure out where everyone is. Sounds like blacking out is the theme of last night. Keith and I don’t remember much either. I consider my birthday a success.”

“I don’t know, man. I’ve never blacked out before and I do not like the feeling. I am  _ not  _ doing this again. Remind me to book a spa day for my next birthday instead of nonsense like this. What the hell did you make us drink last night?”

Lance chortles. “I’ll tell you when I remember, my friend. Anyway, have you heard from Pidge or the others?” 

“I haven’t heard from Pidge since last night,” says Hunk. “Last I heard, she said she was coming back to the hotel with Princess Allura and going to bed. She should be fine. And of course Shiro is at the luxury spa we all chipped in to send him to, I made sure of that. He deserves to have a good rest.”

“Oh. Okay,” says Lance. “Well, that’s almost everyone accounted for. That’s not too bad. I figured it would be worse than that, considering none of the three of us can remember anything. Have you talked to Coran?” 

“No, I haven’t heard from him yet—wait, hold on, I have another call coming. Can I call you back?” 

“Sure. My phone’s dead, so you’ll have to call Keith.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

Keith accosts Lance as soon as he hangs up the phone. 

“Why didn’t you tell him we accidentally got married?!” 

Lance shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear him? He’s already freaking out and it’s not even like anything actually happened. We can tell him in person. Or after we get our marriage annulled.” 

“I still think you should have told him right away.”

“And make him worry more? Nah. Look, we’ve got two whole days left in Vegas to figure this out. The princess said we can stay here for the entire weekend before we have to go back. I’m sure we can work together and trace our steps backwards and get this all sorted out.” 

Keith raises an eyebrow. “You’re making this sound a lot easier than I think it’s going to be.” 

Lance shrugs and smiles blithely. “What can I say? I’m an eternal optimist. And what’s the worst that could happen? This is the only thing that went wrong. We’ll figure it out as we go along.” 

He hands back the phone to Keith just as it starts ringing again. It’s an unknown number, so he almost lets it go to voicemail, but something compels him to pick up the call. 

“Hello..?”

“Hi, is this Keith Kogane?”

“Yes, who is this?” 

“This is the Clark County Detention Center. Are you familiar with anyone named Pidge Gunderson? She says she'd like to speak to you.” 


	2. is it the look in your eyes?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance decide to save Pidge. They get a little sidetracked along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally meant for all of you to find out what Pidge did in this chapter. And then Keith and Lance and their dumb banter got in the way, so you'll have to wait just a little longer :^)

Shiro sighs with pleasure as the masseuse massaging his back rubs a particularly thick knot out of his back. 

Although he had initially resisted the other paladins’ offer to go on a two day spa tour while the others partied hard for Lance’s birthday, they ultimately wore him down—Pidge and Hunk, in particular, through a remarkably persuasive video essay they created together—and he finally agreed.

And Shiro can't be more pleased that he did. It's marvelous to not have to worry about leading the team, if only for a few days. He's more relaxed than he has been in years, and he truly appreciates how thoughtful the others were, to let him take a break for the weekend and indulge in some self care.

Shiro especially appreciates the fact that he doesn't have his phone with him. Although he is a little nervous at not being able to get in touch with the others, Hunk has reassured him that should something go wrong, they will contact the leaders of the tour to let Shiro know something is going on.

But Shiro trusts the other Paladins. Even though he's not there with them, after nearly four years in space, he believes they'll be just fine without him for two days, and he plans to indulge in every new moment of peace and solitude he has to look forward to over the whole weekend. Is it a little weird to be completely disconnected from everyone and everything for two whole days? Perhaps, a little—but as he settles into the warm, hot towel and lets himself drift away, Shiro decides it’s not worth dwelling on and getting in the way of his relaxation. 

He notes to himself that he will have to make it up to them sometime.

* * *

“Pidge is in jail?” replies Keith, jaw dropping. 

Lance gapes at him.  _ What?!  _ he mouths.  _ Put it on speaker! _

The few seconds it takes Keith to do this means that they miss out on the correctional officer’s explanation of why their delinquent little friend is behind bars,  so they have no context when she starts talking. 

“Keith, you're the only reasonable person out of everyone here except Shiro, and I refuse to bother him to handle something as silly as this.”

Keith muffles Lance’s indignant squawk with the palm of his hand. 

“How long have you been there?” he asks. 

“Well, they only managed to find me about two hours ago, so it hasn’t been long. Can you please get here as soon as you can? I need another person to back up my alibi and I told them you would confirm that I was telling the truth.” 

“Of course we’re going to come get you!” Lance bursts out, pushing Keith’s hand away. “We’ll be right there! Don’t worry, Pidge!” 

“Thanks, Lance. And, um...please bring some bail money.” 

Lance nods emphatically into the phone, as though Pidge can see him. 

“You got it, kid,” he responds, before hanging up.

“Kid? says Keith, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t heard you call her that in a while.” 

“I don’t know! I’m kind of freaking out at the fact that she’s in jail, okay? It reminds me of the time my dumb kid brother thought it would be cool to steal a car at the age of 13. He thought he was invincible and you know Pidge does too.” 

“Relax. I’m sure it’s just some sort of misunderstanding or something silly. She didn’t seem too worried.”

Lance shakes his head. “Come on, this is Pidge. Do you really believe that?” 

Keith shrugs. “I guess we’ll have to find out. Let’s go. I’m sure there’s an ATM somewhere around here.”

“Okay,” says Lance. “And I guess I’ll just have to charm the police officer into releasing her without bail if we don’t have enough in the bank.”

“You wish,” Keith replies with a snort.

Lance ignores him and strides purposefully towards the door before he suddenly stops short and turns back to Keith in confusion. 

“Wait. I just realized that I have no idea where the fuck we are. Did you choose this room last night? What part of town are we even in right now?” 

Keith rolls his eyes. “What part of ‘I blacked out last night’ are you having trouble understanding? Also, you need to put your shirt back on. You can’t go to the police station dressed like that.”

A smirk slowly spreads across Lance’s face as he sidles up to him and snakes an arm around his waist. 

“What, you don’t like seeing a little skin,  _ amorcito _ ?” 

“It doesn’t matter if I like it or not, it’s a matter of getting the cops to take you seriously.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

“Do you want to get Pidge out of jail or not?” 

Lance lets out a self-righteous little huff. “Excuse you, I was the one having a panic attack about this like two minutes ago. Of course I care! Caring and flirting with my husband are not mutually exclusive things.”

“I am not your husband,” grouses Keith. 

“Okay, babe. You keep telling yourself that.”  

“Stop being a dick and find your shirt.”

Lance groans. “Ughhhhhh, fiiiiiine.”

He walks back into the bathroom to retrieve his shirt, but it's not there. 

“Babe, can you please look to see if my shirt is anywhere in the room? I don't see it in the bathroom.”

Keith looks around, but doesn't see any discarded clothing anywhere, except for a bedazzled black belt by the corner of the nightstand that he doesn't recognize either. 

He hopes to god that it is just an accessory left by another guest and not something that either he or Lance had the horrible judgment to buy during their blackout adventure—although at this rate, he’s becoming less and less convinced that any good decisions were made last night. 

He rifles through every drawer, but the room is barebones and it doesn’t take much time before Keith has to admit defeat.

“I don’t see anything either,” he says with a sigh. “I guess you must have taken your shirt off before we got here.” 

Lance smirks. “Or maybe _ you _ took it off me.” 

Keith crosses his arms and scowls. “Again, irrelevant. We were drunk. We did stupid shit. Either way, we need to get you a shirt before we go to the police station. You’re going to attract unnecessary attention.” 

“ _ Ohhhhh IIIIIII seee how it isssss _ ,” says Lance, unnecessarily drawing out every syllable. “Hubby darling is  **_jealous_ ** .” 

Keith can feel a vein start to throb in his temple and tries to ignore it. 

“Can you just—” 

Lance stops him by pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry, babe. We can stop by a Target or something before we get there. In the meantime, I’ll cover myself with a bathrobe.” 

“What?! That does not make anything better!” 

Lance saunters over to the closet and pulls out the bathrobe, which is a plush blue that makes his eyes pop in an irritatingly attractive way. Of course, Keith doesn’t plan to give him the satisfaction of telling him this. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have to; Lance seems to realize how good the robe looks on him without Keith saying anything at all. 

“Damn, I look hot in this, don’t I?” 

“Take that off.”

“Sorry darling, I was born to wear this blue. I am going to Target in this.” 

“It’s not even yours! I don’t think the hotel is going to allow us to take it.” 

“I don’t know, babe. This looks way too nice. I don’t think it even belongs to the hotel. It probably belongs to some guest who left it here.” 

“So what, you’re just going to take someone else’s robe now?”

Lance shakes his head. “Hey now, hey now. I think that is a case of the pot calling the kettle black. How many alien knives have you stolen now? Don’t think I don’t know about your special collection.” 

“That’s different,” mutters Keith.

“You know, I really don’t think it is!” Lance trills. 

He proceeds to twirl around the room. “Oh, what would Hunk say if he saw us now? Fighting like the old married couple that we are.” 

“You’re 21.” 

Lance stops and sighs. “One day, I will teach you to be less literal.” 

“Whatever you say, Lance.”

* * *

Ultimately, Keith gives up the battle. He doesn’t really have a viable argument for why Lance shouldn’t wear the bathrobe other than “it looks ridiculous”, which Lance outright dismisses as a good reason for not wearing the bathrobe. 

“We’re in Vegas! Nobody will even blink an eye. If anything, they’ll appreciate my keen fashion sense.”

To Lance’s credit, the woman at the front desk of the motel doesn’t even blink an eye at the ridiculous plush robe when they check out, or the wedding veil and marriage certificate he is clutching in his left hand. If anything, she seems bored, though she gives Keith a vaguely interested onceover which he pretends not to notice as he hands her the room keys. 

“That’s my husband,” Lance supplies helpfully, as he watches the silent exchange. “We got married last night.”

“Lucky man,” she comments. It’s not clear who she is referring to. 

* * *

At Target, he tries to walk a few steps ahead of Lance as they walk towards the men’s clothing section, but Lance immediately realizes what Keith is up to and speeds up, latching onto his left arm before he can stop him. 

Keith sighs. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course, Keithy-poo. Anything you want.”

“What are you getting out of keeping this up? Your birthday was yesterday.”

Lance drops his arm and shrugs, his expression faltering for a millisecond, looking wounded. But it’s replaced by a smug expression so quickly that Keith wonders if he imagined the whole thing.

“It's my birthday  _ weekend! _ ” he trumpets, placing the veil back on his head. “I'm going to make the most of it. And if making the most of it means getting as much leverage out of the fact we’re married for two more days, you can bet that I'm going to take advantage of that.”

Keith resigns himself to 48 more hours of nonsense.

* * *

Keith still remembers when Lance finally gave up on keeping up the so-called rivalry he had kept going between them for the better part of two years, but he cannot for the life of him remember when they stopped being simply friends and started moving into the territory of something more. These days, their physical proximity borders on downright intimate at times—at any given moment Lance is draped over him like a blanket, or poking him in the arm, or leaning against him as he whines about something annoying that happened to him that day. 

He’s overheard Hunk asking Lance a few times if there’s anything special going on between them in particular, but Lance always shrugs off the question, so Keith doesn’t spend too much time worrying about it either. 

The thing is, Keith isn’t someone who overthinks situations when he doesn’t have to, and he’s simply accepted the shift between them without worrying too much about it.   


Lance decided he was his rival. Then he decided he wasn’t. Then he decided they were friends. Now perhaps Lance has decided that they’re something more. Keith isn’t sure, and it’s way too fucking exhausting to try and keep up, so he’s just been letting Lance dance around him until he decides what they are, and they can go from there.

In retrospect, perhaps this wasn’t the wisest of decisions. Because apparently what Lance has decided they are is  _ married. _

* * *

In the men’s clothing section, Lance heads right for the section with neon tanktops cut so low on the sides they practically scream  _ douchebro _ . He selects a black tank emblazoned with neon pink and laser green lettering in an unreadable font and turns to Keith. 

“I’m thinking about this. You think this will seduce them?” 

“Absolutely not. Are you actively trying to antagonize the policemen with your shitty fashion taste? All you’re missing is a snapback and a six-pack of beer.” 

“I’m sorry you can’t appreciate the fraternity aesthetic. Not everyone can pull off brooding athletic hipster like you can. Anyway, I thought it was obvious this was a joke.” 

“Lance, do me a favor and just buy a polo like a normal adult and get on with it. Pidge is waiting for us. Also, athletic hipster is not a thing.”

“Look in the mirror and say that again, Mr. skinny jeans, sports hoodie, and beanie.” 

“Still not a thing. Also, this is your hoodie, not mine.”

“Doesn’t matter! You still wore it and you  _ went out _ wearing that. That is your idea of party clothing. Hipster.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? It’s totally normal!”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it! But it’s not the sort of thing someone should wear to a 21st birthday party, especially one in Vegas.” 

Keith rolls his eyes and snatches the black tank and puts it back on the rack.

“If that’s the case, maybe you should have said something before we came out. I don’t remember much about last night, but I do remember you spent two hours getting ready. You should have said something about what I was wearing if it really bothered you that much.” 

Lance pouts and makes sad cow eyes at the douchebro tank before sighing and turning away.

“I’m coming back for you,” he says to the tank, blowing it an exaggerated kiss before he walks over to the “boring” section and selects the plainest black polo on the shelf. He sighs and shows it to Keith. 

“Does this meet your standards?” 

Keith gives him a curt nod.   

Lance keens as though he’s been punched in the gut. “ _ Ughhhh _ ….do I have to?” 

“Yes.” 

“This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me. The worst. I hope you know that.”

"It's all for the sake of Pidge. I hope _you_ know _that_."

"Touché, touché."

* * *

As Keith and Lance wait in line for the next available self-checkout counter to buy the shirt and a duffel bag to place the bathrobe in and anything else they might pick up along the way, they lapse into silence for the first time in what seems like hours. 

Of course, it is this precise moment that Keith’s stomach decides to gurgle loudly, and Lance’s eyebrows rise to his hairline.

Thanks to Lance’s incredibly distracting presence, Keith had momentarily forgotten about his pounding headache and the hunger gnawing away at his insides, but the decidedly ungraceful noises his stomach is emitting remind him in no uncertain terms that he needs to make up for all the abuse he has done to his body over the past 24 hours.

“So. We need to feed that,” says Lance, gesturing at his stomach.

“Yeah, I know,” says Keith. “I don’t even remember the last time I ate.” 

Lance purses his lips as he thinks. “I’m pretty sure we passed a little food stand up the street. You wanna go there after we’re done here?” 

Keith shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to waste any more time. We need to get to an ATM and get Pidge’s bail money. She’s waiting for us.”

“Come on, it’ll take like 2 minutes to get a breakfast burrito.” 

Keith can’t deny that logic, so he says yes.

* * *

The chef at the food stand whips up a piping hot breakfast burrito just as quickly as Lance says he will, even though in the mid-July heat, Keith isn’t too interested in eating a hot meal. Still, he’s hungry as hell, and he’s not about to turn away a meal that Lance for some reason insists on paying for. 

As he eats the burrito, the gossipy cashier turns to Lance, who hasn’t ordered anything. 

“You hear the news?” she asks.

Lance shakes his head. “Nah, we’re both recovering from the world’s worst hangover. Kind of a wild night. What happened?”

“Some crazy mysterious woman broke into the Las Vegas Zoo and set all the lions free and now they’re all missing. Nobody knows who she is, but they say she was really tall and had really big hair.”

“Huh,” says Lance. “Interesting.” 

He turns to Keith, and from the look in his eyes, it's clear that they're both thinking the same thing. 

But Keith at least banishes the thought as soon as it comes. There's no way Allura would be so reckless.

* * *

A small annoying voice in Keith’s head tells him that she absolutely would, which he chooses to ignore. 

* * *

After he's done eating the burrito, they head into the nearest bank to withdraw cash for Pidge. Unfortunately, Keith still doesn't feel so good, and he rubs circles around his temples in an attempt to reduce the pain.

Distracted by the throbbing, Keith doesn't immediately notice Lance’s face, which has gone ashen as he looks at the ATM screen. But after several minutes have passed and Lance still hasn't moved, he finally realizes that something must have gone awry.

“What’s wrong? Why are you staring at the screen like that?”

Lance gestures wordlessly at the screen, clearly beyond speech. As Keith turns to look at it, he immediately realizes why. 

The account balance reads: $ **10,000,000.00.**

That is Nine million, nine hundred and ninety five thousand dollars more than was in the account the night before.

This, no doubt, must be directly connected to the reason Pidge is in jail.

“Shit _ , _ ” he hisses under his breath. “ _ Shiiiiiiiiiit _ .”

“Shit is right,” replies Lance, finally having regained his powers of speech. “You said it was probably something stupid, but it looks like while we were off recreating The Hangover, Pidge went full on Ocean’s Eleven but got fucking caught.”

Keith stares at Lance, uncomprehending, until Lance gives in.

“Right. I forgot that you’re a half Galra desert goblin who doesn’t watch movies.” 

Keith doesn’t even blink. Lance sighs. 

“Our little Pidgeon must have conned the wrong people last night. I’m pretty sure this is going to take more than a couple hundred dollars and my sweet powers of seduction to get us out of this mess.”

“So what should we do?” replies Keith, frowning.

Lance bites his lip. “I don’t know. Call Shiro?” 

Keith shakes his head. “No. He doesn’t need to know about this mess. We can handle it. First of all, Hunk will yell at both of us for ten years, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want that to happen.”

“Okay, just because you were the Black Paladin for like a week and a half when he went missing doesn’t mean that you can make decisions on his behalf. It’s not like he’s on the astral plane. He’s just chilling in a spa.”

“No. We told Shiro we were going to be responsible and handle this and that we wouldn’t bother him. So we will.” 

Lance frowns. “So then...what do we do?” 

“We’re going to go straight to the jail to find out exactly what Pidge did,” says Keith, crossing his arms and nodding emphatically. “And then we’re going to figure out how to get her out.” 

Lance hesitates. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course not. I have no fucking idea what happened last night. But we have to do something.”

“Great. I love the vote of confidence.” 

Keith snorts. “You’ll get over it. Let’s go.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying this story, you should check out my other klance fics! 
> 
> [letters](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7643245/chapters/17401366) is a boarding high school multichapter au with letters of challenge, love letters, cheesy singing, and cute nicknames
> 
> [you raise me up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9038768) is a college au one-shot with ballroom dancing, mutual pining, and crazy sweaters
> 
> [starry nights and shining armor](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7471770) was my first klance fic, a canon verse one-shot with pop culture loving and oblivious lance
> 
> [love in the time of galra](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7835926/chapters/17888689) is a series of canon-verse established relationship drabbles
> 
> as always, come scream at me about all things klance and pidge at [stardusted](http://stardusted.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


	3. it's on, girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storytime with Pidge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suggest you suspend any and all disbelief before embarking on this chapter. Send it off on a nice vacation to Hawaii and don't let it come back until you're done reading.

Lance tugs at his shirt collar and whines as the cab driver zooms down the street towards the detention center. The air conditioner is broken and although the windows are open, it’s the end of July and the air flowing into the cab is uncomfortably hot and dry.

If Keith wasn’t used to living in extreme conditions out in the desert, he imagines he would be more bothered, but it’s nice in a weirdly nostalgic sort of way. At least it would be, if Lance weren’t sitting next to him and grousing about how he’s going to die from sun poisoning and dehydration.

“This is the end for me, babe,” moans Lance, melting against the backseat. “These are my final moments. I will leave you soon. Tell Allura I’d still marry her if you weren’t my one and only. Tell Pidge she’s the most badass Paladin this side of the universe. Tell Hunk he’s the best person I know. Tell Shiro he deserved better than us. Tell Coran he really is the most gorgeous man.”

Keith sighs. “Are you done?”

“My lover is so cruel and heartless!” cries Lance. “He doesn’t care that his husband is slowly dying while also being forced to wear the ugliest shirt known to man or alien.”

“Stop whining,” says Keith. “It’s not even that bad.”

“I’m wearing a black polo in 105 degree weather. It’s the worst. There’s nothing you can say or do to convince me otherwise.”

Keith briefly makes eye contact with the driver in the rearview mirror. She seems amused by Lance’s histrionics, but says nothing.

Keith knows that unless he does something to stop Lance in his tracks, he’s going to keep going down this dramatic path until they get to the jail. Considering his headache hasn’t gotten any better, it would be in his best interest to make Lance quit talking.

He considers the options:

  * Placing a hand over Lance’s mouth. Effectiveness: Low. Likely to stop working as soon as he removes his hand.
  * Distracting Lance by telling him a lie about how Allura complimented him. Effectiveness: Temporary. Also likely to get him in trouble with both Lance and Allura later on.
  * Pushing Lance out of the car. Effectiveness: high. Consequences: extreme. A totally unusable option, though the blue paladin has a way of getting under Keith’s skin in a way that makes it very difficult for him to remove the option from consideration.



Keith frowns; it doesn’t look like he has any viable options to make Lance stop. And then another idea springs unbidden in his mind: 

  * Confusing Lance by complimenting him. Effectiveness: unknown. Temptation: High.



As histrionic as Lance can be, and as often as he and Keith find themselves engaging in inane arguments about the dumbest shit possible, he is very good at keeping a cool head.

Unless, of course, an attractive alien compliments him. When that happens, he usually loses all ability for coherent thought and becomes about as useful as a blob of space goo.

Because this is something that usually only works with aliens, Keith isn’t sure how it’s going to go down if he’s the one to say something nice. On the other hand, he’s seen the way Lance lights up entire rooms with his smile whenever any of the other paladins say anything complimentary to him, so he has a feeling it’s going to go well.

He brushes a sweaty bang away from his forehead and turns to Lance, touching his arm.

“I think you look good in black,” he offers, with what he hopes the other paladin will interpret as a friendly expression. “It’s a nice color on you.”

Keith doesn’t know how exactly he expected Lance to react; blushing and turning bright red perhaps, blubbering and tripping over his tongue, reacting loudly to finally receiving an unprompted compliment from him, or even being shocked into silence—at least some kind of reaction indicating complete and utter surprise.

What Keith does not expect Lance to do is to drop the dramatics entirely and look at him head on, eyes wide, and respond with a simple “You really think so?”

“Um, yeah,” Keith replies, taken aback by Lance’s sudden shift in tone.

Lance rubs the back of his neck and looks down.

“Huh, I guess I’ll have to wear it more often,” he says, voice contemplative, before he looks back up at Keith and smiles.

Lance’s smile is gentle and then it’s not, the vulnerability as fleeting as a butterfly riding a strong current. The sly smirk that quickly replaces it makes Keith wonder for at least the fifth time today if he’s imagining things, but he doesn’t have time to reflect on it more before Lance is back to being obnoxious.

“Since hubby darling insists, we’ll have to go shopping for a new black wardrobe after we jailbreak Pidge,” says Lance. “After all, we have ten million—”

“Shut up!” hisses Keith, clapping his hand over Lance’s mouth. “Do you want to get Pidge in even more trouble?!”

Lance shakes his head vigorously and sits back against the backseat, chastened.

He is blissfully silent for the rest of the ride to the jail.

* * *

Keith and Lance stand awkwardly outside the detention center, watching as the taxi pulls away.

Lance turns to Keith, biting his lip.

“How exactly do we start the conversation with the cops? Hi, we’re here to rescue our friend from jail?”

Keith snorts. “Yeah, let’s tell the cops we’re rescuing someone _from_ them.”

“I mean, technically, we _are_. We have bail money and everything. It’s just a matter of how to start the conversation. I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

“Don’t think about it too much. Speaking from experience, they’re not usually interested in small talk.”

Lance turns to Keith, suddenly looking very intrigued. “Speaking from experience, you say?”

“Lance, this is not storytime.”

Lance nods. “Fair, fair. We have a job to do. But don’t think I’m going to forget this. You will tell me this story after we free our little pidgeon.”

* * *

Lance smiles amiably at the attractive officer —apparently named Officer Flores— assigned to search them and give them the paperwork they need to bail out Pidge.

He does his best to chat her up, but unfortunately, Officer Flores doesn’t seem too interested in making small talk.

That is, of course, until she learns who exactly they’ve come to bail out.

“Did you say you’re here for _Pidge Gunderson_?”

Lance exchanges glances with Keith, who shrugs.

“Um...yes?”

Office Flores shakes her head vigorously.

“Oh, no, no no. I’m going to have to hand you off to Officer Johnson. He’s been handling her case. This is a complicated one.”

“Complicated...how?” replies Lance.

Officer Flores just shakes her head.

* * *

Nobody in the detention center seems to want to make eye contact with either Lance or Keith as they walk through the halls, following Officer Johnson, who walks rather gingerly at least five steps ahead of them.

He’s mumbling under his breath and Keith is only able to catch a few words: “terror”; “robots”; “uncontrollable”; “Carrie”.

 _Sounds about right_ , he thinks, as they follow him down the hallway. As tiny as Pidge is, she can be fearsome in battle, and if someone got on her bad side last night, Keith wouldn’t be surprised if she did something to make them regret making her angry.

He just wishes he could remember if he was there. It’s going to be hard to help if he doesn’t have any damn clue what happened.

At the end of the hall, they enter a small room with one cell and window. Pidge sits innocently inside, staring at the walls. Though she is dressed in an orange jumpsuit, she isn’t wearing her glasses, and when she turns to look at them with sad, large honey brown eyes, looking as innocent as can be, Keith has to bite back a laugh.

“Your friend here is a threat to society,” the officer says, staring fearfully at her, as though she is going to eat him. “We had to detain her and keep her in solitary confinement here to prevent her from causing further damage.”

Lance bursts into laughter.

“Come on, officer, she’s like 14 years old! There’s no way she could be a threat to society.”

“She’s a minor?!” shouts the officer. “She said she was 22 years old!”

Lance stops laughing and looks at Pidge, who ignores him entirely. Instead, she looks at the officer.

“I am 22 years old,” she says, her voice measured. “Don’t listen to Lance.”

“What did she even do?” says Keith, turning back to the officer. “Why are you holding her?”

The officer shakes his head. “You haven’t seen the news? Not only was your “innocent” little underage friend here illegally gambling, she took control of all of the robots in every casino on the strip and made them come to life. It was like a goddamn army of robot staff and gambling machines pledging their loyalty to Pidge the Great Green Gunderson. The engineers still haven’t figured out how to rewire them, and I’m pretty sure some of the machines actually escaped onto the streets and are still on the lam. It’s goddamn chaos.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “Officer, I don’t like to disrespect men of the law, but that story is really hard to believe. Are you sure that’s what really happened?”

“Young man, there is video footage of all of this happening, not to mention actual news footage. I find it hard to believe you haven’t seen it.”

“Personally, I think this was all a misunderstanding,” Pidge interjects. “I never intended for things to go this far. The robots are nothing to be afraid of, it’s just a simple line of programming that got slightly out of hand. But they're not _sentient_ or anything crazy like that.”

Keith bites back a laugh. Pidge has to be lying through her teeth; she figured out how to create sentient robots within two years of being in outer space. He would not put it past her to drunkenly leverage that knowledge in certain situations, like this one.

But that’s not his business. He just wants to get her out of jail.

Officer Johnson shakes his head. “Ms. Gunderson, if there was truly no problem, why were you hiding from us?”

“She was probably scared,” says Lance. “No offense, Pidge. I’m just making conjectures.”

“Stop talking, Lance,” says Keith, elbowing him in the side. “Let Pidge explain.”  

Pidge shakes her head. “Nothing to do with being scared. It’s simple, really. I was asleep and as such, completely unaware that there was a police hunt out for me. I’m sorry that things took this turn. Anyone who knows me is typically used to technology going a little haywire. I like to experiment. But I promise none of it is dangerous.”

As she turns to Keith and makes eye contact with him, the paladin bond snaps to life. Though her face is expressionless, he can feel how nervous she really is— and from the look on Lance’s face, he feels it too.

 _Distract him_ , she communicates across the bond. _I need to figure out a solution._

Keith nods and turns to the policeman. “Anyway. See, Officer? It was all just a misunderstanding.”

 _What kind of distraction is that?_ Lance interjects.

Keith scowls. _What, can you do better?_

Lance cuts his eyes at him. _Yes. Yes, I can._

The officer still looks suspicious. The atmosphere in the holding room is getting increasingly tense, and Pidge’s poker face starts to falter. Keith isn’t sure what to do.

His instinct is to simply break the lock, grab Pidge, and go, but that sort of stunt only works in space, where he can just say it was because of official Voltron business.

Unfortunately, he has a feeling that the police officers of Las Vegas don’t particularly care that he’s an intergalactic warrior. So he’s not going to do that.

Lance shakes his head and breaks away from the bond, turning to the officer.

“Sir, I know you’re worried, but we just want to bail out our friend. What are our options?”

Office Johnson crosses his arms. “Well... “

Keith lets Lance take over the conversation as the officer launches into a detailed explanation of everything they need to do, focusing back on Pidge.

_What actually happened? We can’t help you if you don’t tell us._

Pidge bites her lip. _Ugh. Fine._

Keith struggles to keep his own face blank as images start to fly through his mind. Luckily, Lance proves to be as much of a pro at keeping Officer Johnson distracted as he says he is, and Keith is able to turn his full attention to Pidge—though his hand does hover over the handle of the invisible blade he’s taken to carrying at all times, should something go awry after all. (He's not sure how the security guards didn't catch it while checking them, but then again, that's not his problem)

* * *

Coran and Pidge are walking down the street after the Cirque du Soleil show, when Coran spots a group of elaborately dressed people standing in an alley. His eyes light up and he runs towards them, mumbling something about old friends and getting drinks and telling Pidge that he’ll be a while and to go back to the hotel, where Allura is hanging out alone.

Pidge does not go back to the hotel.

Instead, she wanders inside the nearest casino and produces a fake ID out of nowhere when she is questioned.

 _When did you get a fake?_ interrupts Keith.

She shrugs. _I have my sources._

Identity proven, she walks around inside until she finds the robot staff member guarding the entrance to the restricted robot gaming section and convinces it to let her inside.

The section is filled with a wide range of people who all seem to be suspiciously underage, particularly in the bot-fighting arena.

But that’s not where Pidge goes.

She pulls the hood of her hoodie over her head and walks towards a particularly quiet section of the room, where a motley crew of people are playing a seemingly innocuous card game, with a robot in the middle that has been fashioned to look like a cauldron, where players can enter the items and money they want to bet.

Pidge immediately sits down to play, apparently already familiar with this odd game that Keith has never even heard of.

_Does Shiro know you know how to gamble?_

_No. But don't worry. What Shiro doesn't know won't hurt him._

As her first bet, Pidge gambles her fancy tricked out Converse shoes and thirty dollars. It's an absurd thing to gamble against the large pile of money the other players have put in the pot, and at first, the other players actually laugh loud, passing her a flask filled with some indeterminate liquid before dismissing her as a naive newbie.

But then Pidge wins, to everyone’s shock but her own. She chicken dances around the circle before sitting down and placing her next bet: Shiro’s eyeliner, and half the money she has just won.

_How do you have Shiro’s eyeliner?!_

_I'm a bit of a magpie. I bet your knife and Lance’s expensive moisturizer that he got as a gift with his last Sephora splurge too._

The more ridiculous her bets are, the more money she wins, and soon, almost none of the other players are laughing anymore.

And then Pidge gets a little too bold. Cheeks flushed and eyes glassy from jungle juice, she stands arms akimbo as she announces her final gamble.

“For my final bet, I bet the Castle of Lions!”

One of the other players scoffs. “What is that? A fancy cat castle for Socks, your rescue tabby?”

“No. It's actually where I live. It’s a gigantic sentient robot castle. It flies and is capable of making wormholes and it's the coolest fucking place you'll never see, because I'm about to kick your ass in this round.”

With a final flourish, Pidge drops her cards on the table.

Her face falls as she sees her hand.

She's lost the round.


	4. we'll go go go go go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jailbreak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure this isn't how the paladin bond actually works. Or computer hacking. But hey, this is a crack fic, so who cares?
> 
> PS: Sorry it's been so long!

“So, Castle of Lions, huh?” sneers the player from before, a large, burly man who somehow resembles a cross between a Galra and a WWE fighter, with long scraggly blond hair falling across mean, beady eyes.

Pidge laughs nervously. “Look, I might have been bluffing a little bit.”

“You think scamming us out of our money is funny?” he growls, curling his meaty hands into a fist that she would much rather not take on without the protection of her paladin suit.

Pidge bites her lip as she scrambles for words that might placate this human robeast.

“It’s all in good fun, right?”

As his eyes start to bulge in fury, Pidge realizes that she might not have said the right thing.

“I’ll tell you what’s fun!”

“ _Shit_ ,” she mutters under her breath, grabbing her bag from the floor and holding it to her chest as she slowly starts to tiptoe backwards. She pulls out her phone and slips it in the front of her hoodie as she scans the room for a potential escape route.

“My fist. IN YOUR FACE!”  

Just as he lunges towards her, Pidge spots a gap in the crowd and breaks into a sprint.

“GET HER!” he bellows, as she weaves in and out of the confused crowd, using her phone to scan the casino to find a place for her to hide.

Unfortunately, despite years of training and increased stamina as a result, the burly man nearly catches up with Pidge and is about to grab her shoulder, when her phone beeps and points her towards a door that leads into what seems like an empty room at the end of the hallway.

With one last burst of energy, she makes a break for it and yanks the door open and slams it shut, locking it behind her and collapsing to the floor.

Pidge closes her eyes, breathing heavy as she gathers her bearings.

And then she looks up and realizes where she is.

As her phone predicted, the room has no other people in it, but it is far from empty.

Pidge’s eyes light up as she realizes that her phone has led her to the true jackpot...the room containing the mainframe system controlling all of the robots inside the casino.

The rational part of her brain knows that she should just wait inside the room until the coast is clear and then leave to go back to the hotel and meet up with Allura, like she promised Coran in the first place.

But the perverse side of Pidge’s brain, the side being egged on by the jungle juice currently flowing through her system and reminding her that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas...well, it tells her it won’t be a real Vegas trip unless she does something a little bit crazy.

A smile spreads across her face and she slowly starts moving toward the large servers, which are surprisingly unsecured, though one of the walls is covered with security cameras displaying the rest of the casino.

It’s clear that the people who run this place don’t expect anyone to come into this particular room.

 _A naive mistake_ , Pidge thinks, as she scans the cameras and spots Mr. WWE, who is still stalking the hallways in search for her, brushing past the service robots who are asking him if he needs any help.  

Her eyes sparkle as she considers the possibilities for retaliation. From the looks of the technology in here, it would take a simple override of the service robots to get a few of them to gang up on her opponent and toss him out of the casino.

It’s a simple enough thing to do, and her fingers are itching to do it.

So simple, in fact, that Pidge finds herself typing in the override before she even realizes she’s doing it. One could even call it an accident.

 _Okay, that’s bullshit!_ Lance responds as he cuts into the memory.

Keith scowls. _Lance! Shut up and focus on distracting the officer._

_You can’t tell me Pidge didn’t know what she was doing! This is a biased telling of events._

Keith rolls his eyes. _She’s going to get there eventually!_

_Well, get there faster! I can only charm this police officer for so long before he figures out something’s up!_

_The two of you sound like an old married couple,_ interrupts Pidge. _But fine, I can speed it up. This is the main reason things got kind of messy._

As she fast forwards through a highlight reel of the next few hours of sheer chaos, it becomes abundantly clear to both Keith and Lance that the police officers were not exaggerating when they described the event as a robot uprising.

One by one, the robot staff members have their master code overwritten, and soon, they all pledge their allegiance to Pidge as they spread across the casino in search of Mr. WWE, who seems to have fled the premises.

Lance struggles to keep his face neutral as the increasingly absurd scenes fly through his head.

_Holy shit, Pidge...remind me never to piss you off ever again._

Pidge smirks. _Yeah. You better remember that._

 _Okay, but what about the ten million dollars in our bank account?_ Keith interjects.

_Oh. That. Well._

Pidge speeds up to the point in the night where the entire casino has devolved into chaos and every robot is in her control, including those that are in charge of managing the financial accounts tied to the casino.

One of the bank robots sends an alert to the room that the systems are being overwhelmed and that the emergency backups need to be activated so that the money isn’t lost or stolen by anyone else trying to break into the system.

Pidge bites her lips as the alert flashes across the main screen. For a moment, she stops and does the right thing, making sure that most of the funds in the casino are locked away and inaccessible to any rogue hackers who might be trying to take advantage of the chaos, but the temptation to take _just a little bit_ wins over the instinct to make sure it’s all in the right place, and she flows it into the joint earth bank account Shiro made them open for use when they all return to Earth for short trips.

_Aaand that’s enough._

Pidge cuts off the memory there, her lips twisted in a wry smile.

_So. Now you know. That jungle juice was strong as fuck.  Blame it on the alcohol._

It’s a lot to take in. It’s also a problem. There’s no doubt that everything that just happened is incriminating beyond all reasonable doubt, and there is obviously no easy way to get out of this situation.

“I’m sorry, kids,” interjects Officer Johnson. “But I just want to remind you that marijuana is illegal in the state of Nevada. You’ve got a lot of nerve coming into a federal building high as a kite, especially to visit a lawbreaker like your friend here. Do you really want to get arrested as well?”

“Excuse me?” sputters Lance. “We aren’t high!”

“You expect me to believe you? I’ve been watching you lot.  You’ve all been staring at each other for the past five minutes without saying a goddamn word. ‘We aren’t high’ my ass. This ain’t my first rodeo, kids. Now I don’t smell anything on ya, so how did you take it? Pills? Brownies? Doesn’t matter. I’ll figure it out. But you two jokers better get out of here before you get yourselves into more trouble.”

Keith scowls. “You can’t talk to us like that!”

“He can taser you though,” says Pidge.

“Don’t give him ideas!!” shrieks Lance.

“Okay, punks. That’s it. Let’s go. Say goodbye to your little friend here. She’s in big trouble and you will be too, if you don’t get it together.”

At this, Lance and Keith exchange a look, which unfortunately, does not go unnoticed by Officer Johnson.

“Is there a problem?”

Pidge snorts as Lance plasters on an unconvincing smile. “No, sir. We don’t want to cause any trouble. Please, can we have a few more minutes?”

Officer Johnson stares dubiously at them, but seems to buy it.

“Fine. Two minutes. But that’s all you get. I’m watching the clock.”

Lance looks back and forth between the others. A crazy idea is sprouting in his head, but he's going to need their help to carry it out. He closes his eyes and thinks of Red, trying to connect with her.

He feels her presence, questioning and immediately on edge, sensing that both he and Keith are in trouble.

She doesn’t know what’s happening, but she’s coming.

He can’t see Red rise from her hiding place in the desert, but he can feel it. She’s on her way, and knowing how fast she moves, she’ll be here in less than five minutes.

Perfect.

Now he just has to make sure that the other two are ready to get the hell out of dodge.

 _Babe, sweetheart...I have an idea to get us out of here. But you have to promise to play along and not question anything I'm doing. Is that okay?_  

Keith rolls his eyes and crosses his arms while Pidge looks back and forth between them, one eyebrow raised.

_Will you stop calling me sweetheart if I do?_

_No. Anyway, just follow my lead. I promise this is a great idea. Also, I told Red that we’re in trouble so she’s on her way._

_You WHAT?_

_Shhhhhhh._

Lance closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, channeling his inner Coran and preparing to do his best impression of their Voltron Coalition days.

He opens his eyes and whirls around, eyes manic as he sidles up to the officer with a wild grin.

“Officer Johnson! This has been such a lovely time. Thank you for hosting us. Unfortunately, we must leave your lovely planet now. We have truly enjoyed it, but now we gotta go.”

“Jesus, kid, what’s with the sudden accent change? Are you on multiple drugs?”

“Absolutely not I am _high_ with the excitement of knowing that my friends and I have finally had the chance to experience the wonders of planet Earth and this marvellous showstopping city of yours. We’ve heard of them for many decaphoebs, ya know.”

“Come again? Deca what?”

“Sadly, my little friend here got lost on her way back to Area 51, where we planned to return last night to beam back up to our planet.”

“Okay, funny guy, that’s it. I’m calling for back-up.”

“There’s no need to do that, my friend,” coos Lance. “Just tell us the quickest route to Area 51 and we’ll be out of your hair before you know it. With our little friend here, of course. That’s part of the deal. This whole issue was just a big old misunderstanding. Please don’t blame her, it’s just her way of making new friends. Sometimes, it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. We just thought  this was a gambling planet, with fast and loose rules. Like your famous Earth chant, 'What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas'. Clearly, we were wrong.”

Lance looks up at the ceiling. Red should be here by now. Where is she? Did she not get his message?

Officer Johnson reaches for his taser, arms trembling.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” says Keith as he shoots an arm out to stop him, his voice low and dangerous.

“And why not?”

“Because you'll anger _her_ ,” says Pidge, grinning and pointing upwards as debris starts falling from the ceiling as the roof trembles and the terrible noise of ripping metal shakes the building.

“What is going on? Who are you?!” shouts Officer Johnson, voice warbling with terror.

Red breaks through the concrete ceiling and picks up Pidge, raising her like a newborn cub while Keith scrambles up her leg and jumps inside after her.

Sunlight pours into the cell, falling upon Lance as he smiles beatifically, waving his arms like a pageant queen.

“This is Red! She’s our ride out of here. Since you can’t seem to help us find Area 51, she’s going to have to be the one to help us get there and go back home. Luckily, she’s super great at finding people and places.”

“And now it’s time for us to leave,” he continues as he climbs inside and moves to the cockpit. “Goodbye!“

“Wait,” says Pidge, shoving her way past Lance and pushing her face against the glass dashboard, pushing her tongue out at Office Johnson as she gives him the finger.

She turns back to Lance as he settles in. “Turn on the intercom before you launch up. I want to tell him to fuck off before we leave.”

“I’ll do anything you want as long as you don’t send your evil robot army after me.”

“As long as you listen to me, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Keith frowns. “Aren’t you going to sit down? You’re not wearing your armor to protect you if you fall over. You could hurt yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me, Keith. I know what I’m doing. Keep an eye on your husband and make sure he pilots us out of here without screwing up.”

“What?!”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the wedding rings that both of you are wearing? I notice everything. You better tell me everything that happened last night when we get back with the others.”

Her eyes widen as Keith falls silent.

“You. You don’t remember anything about last night, do you? Oh my god. This is amazing.”

“I didn’t say that,” he mutters.

“You don’t need to. I know you. I’ve seen you blackout wasted on Nunville before. You are wearing the expression of a man who knows he has made mistakes but doesn’t know what they are.”

“Pidge—” Lance starts, but she shushes him and pushes him down into the pilot seat before he can continue.

“Just get us out of here as fast as you can. I’ll deal with you later.”

Keith rolls his eyes and leans over to take the controls as Lance sputters with indignation, too flustered to focus, as Pidge turns on the intercom herself and leans into the mike.

“Hey, Officer Johnson!”  

The officer turns to face her as her voice booms through the speakers, his eyes wide with fear as Red rises into the air.

“Y...yes?”

“My name isn’t even Pidge Gunderson.”

“What...what is it then?”

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out! Bi-boh-bi, motherfuckers!!”

* * *

Within a few minutes, they’re halfway to the desert, heading back to Red’s hiding place.

Both Keith and Lance are silent and tense, focusing on the road but knowing that Pidge is simply waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on them.

Neither wants to give her an opening.

And then her stomach makes a noise that sounds a lot like a chipmunk and Lance can’t help but cackle at the sound.  

“ _What was_ **_that_** _?!”_

“Shut the fuck up, Lance.”

“Someone sounds hangry.”

“I haven’t eaten in hours, asshole.”

“So let’s get something! Keith and I had some breakfast burritos earlier. We could go back to that place.”

“No. I want brunch. I’m a millionaire, let’s get brunch. I want an entire fucking loaf of the bougiest avocado toast ten million dollars can buy.”

“That money isn’t even ours. We should return it.”

“I’m sorry, Keith, but I can’t find where my fucks went. Do you know where they are? I seem to have misplaced them.”

Lance rubs his temples and groans. “You’re the worst.”  

“Oh, I’m sorry. Who was it that said ‘ _Holy shit, Pidge...remind me never to piss you off ever again?’_ That’s right. You.”

“She’s getting hangrier and hangrier by the second,” Lance mutters. “We have to feed her. And we can’t take Red back into town. That would just draw attention to us. No offense, of course, Red. You’re perfect. We just can’t take you back with us. You’re a gorgeous girl, but kind of conspicuous. ”

Keith smirks. “You don’t have to worry about that. I brought hoverbikes. Check in the back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still with me? Leave a comment and come scream with me at [longhairpidge](http://longhairpidge.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> If you're interested in some of my non klance work (which is decidedly less cracky), I've written for some rare pairs too!
> 
> [time would pass us by](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12588144), a plance lover's dictionary with 100 different words containing drabble entries describing Pidge and Lance's relationship over a lifetime. 
> 
> [the warmest color](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11826168), a short and sweet little allurance oneshot where Lance helps Allura bond with Blue.

**Author's Note:**

> “That’s so rude!” Lance protests. “I know you can’t see me right now, but I’ll have you know that you just made me cry.”
> 
> “Don’t blame me for your seasonal allergies.”
> 
> “Whatever. You better come out in five minutes or I’m using my lockpicking skills to break into your room.”
> 
> “I’d like to see you try,” Keith retorts. 
> 
> Lance’s voice turns wheedling and devilish. “What makes you think I haven’t done it before?”
> 
> \- a snippet from [you raise me up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9038768), my klance college roommates au 
> 
> come scream at me about all things klance and pidgey pie at [stardusted](http://stardusted.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
